A Power in the 'Verse
by Anyankaholic
Summary: Why is Book so mysterious? And why is he so good with a gun? What is he hiding? Could it be an affiliation with the Watcher's Council?
1. Too Close For Comfort

A Power in the 'Verse

Disclaimer: I own neither "Buffy: the Vampire Slayer" nor "Firefly." They're all Joss'.  
>AN: This story takes place after the "Firefly" series but before the movie. Because of this, it takes place approximately 500 years after "Buffy" ends and, as Long John Silver would say, thar be spoilers here, or as River Song would say, *spoilers*.<p>

**Part I**

Too Close For Comfort

_This world is older than you know. Contrary to popular mythology, it did not begin as a paradise. For untold eons, demons walked the earth and made it their home—their hell. But in time, they lost their purchase on this reality. The books tell, the last demon to leave this reality fed off a human, mixed their blood. He was a human form possessed and infected by the demon's soul. Millennia later, after the Earth was used up, we found a new solar system and hundreds of new Earths were terraformed and colonized. The central planets formed the Alliance and decided all the planets had to join under their rule. There was some disagreement on that point. After the war, many of the Independents who had fought and lost drifted to the edges of the system, far from Alliance control. Out here, people struggle to get by with the most basic technologies; a ship would bring you work, a gun would help you keep it. A captain's goal was simple: Find a crew, find a job, keep flying._

Book breathed deeply. The air was hot and dusty and a semi-rank smell filled his nostrils. He nearly began coughing. Despite these drawbacks, the wind on Ariadne was pleasant and almost cool. He was just glad to be ground-side rather than still flying in the black. As much as he loved Serenity and her crew, it seemed to him a man needed to have his feet on the ground every so often to remember that he was a man.

Leaving the ship, Book followed the others toward the market. In front of him, Wash and Zoe were holding hands and whispering to each other. Mal was pretending to have a conversation with Jayne, who was wearing that ridiculous hat again despite the heat, but was really glancing at Inara, who was looking around herself in disgust. No doubt she was lamenting the poor atmosphere and the improbability of finding a client on Ariadne. As far as moons went, this one was certainly not the poorest but it was nowhere near rich either.

Looking past Inara, Book saw Simon walking with Kaylee. Simon had a big, goofy grin on his face and Kaylee was giggling at something the doctor had just said. While Kaylee seemed entirely immersed in whatever Simon was saying, Simon kept glancing around, no doubt keeping an eye on his sister, who was trailing behind him, shuffling her feet and mumbling softly to herself.

Book took another deep breath and regretted it instantly. He felt for the girl.

Upon entering the market, everyone split off into separate groups, heading toward the things they each found most appealing. Wash found some action figures appealing and Zoe found Wash appealing. Kaylee was attempting to drag Simon into some knick-knack shop, but Simon was hesitant to leave River, who had just stopped moving in the middle of the square.

"I'll watch her, son," volunteered Book. "Don't worry. Go with Kaylee."

Flashing him an appreciative grin, Simon allowed Kaylee to drag him away.

"Well, River, where would you like to go?" asked Book.

"The bogeyman is in the alley," whispered River.

"Hm?" asked Book, not sure he had heard her clearly.

"Pow, pow. But there isn't one, there are many. BogeyMEN. Many," responded River, already moving further into the market. Although the tiny girl was only walking, her lithe figure was walking quickly, nearly gliding. Book had to jog to keep apace.

Book found himself so immersed in River's ramblings that he barely noticed when the everyday market sounds died away around them. Looking up, he saw that they were in an abandoned part of the market, where there had clearly been a fire years ago. There were blackened, twisting buildings, and black ash where vendors' stalls had once stood.

Shuddering involuntarily, Book grabbed River's arm and tried to lead her back to civilization. This place was eerie and he registered that there were plenty of hiding places among the ruins.

Suddenly, he heard what he could only describe as a "pow" and heard River gasp with pain. Calling on years of training, Book reacted. Pulling River to his side, he began to run, trusting that River would be able to keep up.

Pushing River down behind a half-standing wall, Book knelt down next to her. Her eyelids were fluttering in her bid to maintain consciousness and Book looked down in horror as he saw her blood-soaked clothes. Quickly ripping the bottom of River's dress, he bandaged her shot arm the best he could. He knew that if he could just stop the bleeding, she would be fine. Slayers had enhanced healing abilities. He had seen it with River a few times. When she had returned his mutilated Bible pages to him, there had been blood on the pages, from what he had assumed were numerous paper cuts, yet her hands had shown no sign of injury.

Looking more closely at her wound, Book could see that it was a gunshot. Although that didn't rule out demons, it did make it less likely. Demons were usually more about their claws and fangs. This was either Alliance or Council—two organizations he knew a lot about, both as an Alliance soldier and as River's Watcher.

Content that River would not hemorrhage to death, Book removed the pistol he kept concealed at the small of his back and made sure the safety was off. Peeking his head over his and River's cover, he could see nothing. Tossing a rock against a wall, Book drew their opponent's fire, forcing him to give up his position. Book took careful aim and fired, he thought he heard someone cry out, but he couldn't be sure. The volley of shots continued unabated, however, and seemed to be coming from various places.

"Too many of them."

Glancing down, Book saw that River was awake and had pulled a knife from her boot. Was that Jayne's knife? No wonder the man disliked her.

"There are too many of them," she repeated. "We need to run. Run, run, run, as fast as we can, they can't catch us, you're the Watcher man." She then smiled that enigmatic smile that always froze Book's blood.

She had never said anything to him before about being a Watcher or her status as the Slayer. It was difficult to tell how much she knew. Between being incredibly perceptive and being psychic, River picked up a lot that most people missed.

"Where to?" he asked, hoping he wasn't making a mistake by relying on her.

Tucking her knife back into her boot, River held out her hand for Book to take. Once he had grasped it, she pulled him to his feet and they were running once more. They ran until Book could barely breathe; he was not a young man anymore.

Finally they reached a ranch house and Book drew some water from the well. After quenching their thirst, Book cleaned River's wound. It had already started to heal, which Book knew to be a bad thing. The bullet was still in there and he had to get it out. Pulling River into the barn, Book began looking at the tools that were arrayed there.

After a few minutes, he returned to River, who was sitting on a wooden crate and inspecting her arm with cool detachment. She was looking at it as if it were not a part of her, merely a curiosity to be studied.

Taking a moment to veil the concern and pity that undoubtedly showed in his eyes, Book approached her with the newly cleaned knife and pliers.

"River, this is going to hurt, but I need to do it. Alright?" he asked, not knowing what he would do if his charge refused. It was not as if anyone could make River do something she didn't want to do, short of harming her, and even then...

Nodding softly, River held out her injured arm to her Watcher, trusting him completely.

Before he could lose his nerve, Book stuck the tip of the knife into the already-healing wound and reopened it. The blood immediately began to flow again.

River gritted her teeth but did not make a sound, choosing instead to watch everything with that all-seeing gaze of hers. Book sometimes wondered if, with that gaze, River could see not just the space around her but the unseen spectrum of thoughts and emotions as well. He wondered if she could truly see the future or just guessed the logical outcome of circumstances.

The wound was still too small for the pliers. Sighing apologetically, Book used the knife to widen the hole again. This time the pliers slid in without resistance.

River cried out when he had to open the pliers slightly within her arm to get them around the bullet. He felt for the girl. He always felt for the girl.

Grasping the bullet, Book slowly pulled it out. About to drop it on the ground, River held out her hand, palm up. Book dropped the bullet into her outstretched arm.

"So small," she said, with a huge smile on her face despite the pain she must be feeling. Book set to work bandaging her arm; he could do no more. "Little ant."

Allowing River to rest a bit, Book went outside and crept to the house. There did not seem to be anyone home. Breaking in, Book began to look for a radio. The crew of Serenity was probably worried about them; if he could call and ease their concerns, that would be for the best. He had not yet worked through what he would tell them—the truth was clearly out of the question—but he didn't want them sending out a search party and being injured.

After he had searched for a radio for about 20 minutes with no luck, Book returned to the barn satisfied. Although he hadn't found the radio, he had found two guns. Whoever lived here would be very sorry that they had not been home today. Not seeing River immediately, he grew worried, but then he heard odd cooing noises coming from the rear of the barn.

River was sitting on the floor petting a horse and rambling nonsensically to it. River seemed gleeful, despite the fact she had just been shot.

"Come on, River," said Book, heaving himself up onto the other horse. "We need to get out of here. It's too close to where we were just attacked." He needed time to think.

Sighing deeply, River followed suit, climbing up onto her horse as well, never ceasing her chatter.

TBC

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	2. How We Got Here

A Power in the 'Verse

Disclaimer: I own neither "Buffy: the Vampire Slayer" nor "Firefly." They're all Joss'. 

**Part II**

How We Got Here

Book could not remember the last time he had been on a horse. He kept glancing over at River, concerned for her, both because of her injury and because he didn't think she had _ever _been on a horse. Despite that, she was doing fine. She seemed to have made an agreement with her horse that she wouldn't kick him and he wouldn't buck her. Book briefly wondered if River could speak to animals; she could do a lot of interesting things thanks to her capacities as a psychic and the Slayer.

How had he ended up here? When he had thought ahead as child, he would never—could never—have imagined this.

He had been an entirely normal child—smart but not overly so, aggressive but not overly so, religious but not overly so.

He had done well in school, able to learn just about anything if he put enough time and energy into it, which he didn't always do. His father wanted him to take over the family business and Book had never even considered an alternative. He dutifully did his work at school and learned about the business in the evenings. He went to church with his family every Sunday and pretended to be interested in what the Shepherd was saying.

He hadn't become truly interested in religion until his second year at the small college his father had sent him to. He had fallen in with a bad crowd. Not bad like Mal and his lot, stealing their way across the 'verse, but bad like Badger and his men, stealing and killing their way across the 'verse.

Book did small things for the gang, like shoplifting and assisting on a few shakedowns. The family business wasn't going so well and Book needed money in his pocket if he wanted to impress the girls.

He spent months with the thugs before he found G-d. He hadn't even been looking for G-d when he had found Him. It had been a routine shakedown. No one was supposed to get hurt—but someone did.

The man had refused to pay. At the time, Book recalled, he had thought the guy was just being cheap by not paying for their protection. Now, older and wiser, he knew how little those shop owners had and how much it cost them to pay off his band of thugs. One thing had led to another, and when all was said and done, the shop owner lay bleeding on the floor with a switchblade sticking out of his gut, blood gargling in his lungs and frothing out his mouth.

Book had run. He had been terrified. Looking back, perhaps he should have tried to help the man, but he knew now, as he did then, that the second that knife had plunged into the man's body, the man was dead. There was nothing he could do; so he ran.

He ran to the closest church and, if he were honest with himself, he had never left. He had blustered in like a man on fire, shaking and yelling, staggering over pews. The local shepherd had taken him in, throwing him a lifeline and caring for him. He had slept in the church, afraid to leave. Out of boredom he had turned to the Bible and found a comfort there that he had never found in those words before. A month later he had joined the seminary.

Life was good for him as a shepherd. He had a flock who admired him, a small-town church that was comfortable enough, and satisfaction with his occupation and his being. He had planned to spend his whole life there but our plans are always fallible—only His plans are flawless.

When the war came, most of his flock sided with the Independents, gearing up and going to war. From the research he had conducted after the war, he knew that most of them had died, some even in Serenity Valley. Perhaps they had fought alongside Mal and Zoe; Book always liked to think that.

He hadn't gone back to that church—he couldn't. Not after those men had died fighting the Alliance while he had joined them willingly enough. Yes, he was drafted but other men were drafted and refused to fight against their neighbors. He could have done that. Instead he let them make him into a soldier. Instead he became a killer for them. He became the very thing he had been running from.

He had been a damn good soldier and he supposed that the mixture of a shepherd and a soldier had been the factor that interested the Watcher's Council. Really, he had been perfect for them: He was a killer, a thinker, a reader, a caregiver, and so on. The perfect combination to become a watcher.

After the war ended, he spent a couple of weeks just drifting around, not knowing to where he was going, until two Council operatives had cornered him in a bar. He had been taken to their leader and the man explained about Watchers, demons, and the Slayer.

At first he had thought the man was crazy, but after being shown proof, he thought it was the most fantastic thing ever. Were demons and the Slayer any more crazy than angels and G-d? He had thrown himself into his watcher studies, absorbing information like a sponge. How could he not be eager to help the Slayer? He had seen this new occupation as a G-d-send. G-d had given him a new purpose in life. When one door closes another opens.

In plain words: He had been a sucker. He had accepted everything the Council had told him and had worshiped them for it. It was the closest he had come to idolatry since becoming a shepherd. All of that had come crashing down when he got his charge.

He had been promoted to full-time watcher more quickly than any other and he had thanked G-d for it. He still thanked G-d for it, but for different reasons now.

They had given him very little information: River Tam, aged 16, being held in an Alliance camp. That was all he knew. Putting his newly-acquired research skills to good use, he had found Simon. It required a lot of wheel-greasing and back-alley deals to get Simon the tools he needed to rescue his sister. Simon could never find out how little he had actually done and how much the good shepherd had done to save River. By the time they got her out, she was 17 and insane.

Despite this, Book tried to get close to her, to be her watcher. That first night on Serenity after River had been woken, he thought the jig was up. He knew he had sent his wave on an encrypted line but somehow Serenity's crew had picked it up; he had sent his first report to the Council, giving them the bare bones of the girl's situation, barely any detail at all, just enough to tide them over until he could send a lengthier report. He allowed himself to breathe a little easier when they discovered the Alliance agent aboard the ship.

His chest had tightened up again, however, when he had received a reply from the Council. They had read his report and found it unsatisfactory, due to the dearth of information and due to the content he did include. They had superciliously reminded him that it was the Slayer's duty to protect others. A girl in River's state could barely protect herself. A new Slayer would need to be Called. The short message had ended with an order: "Kill the girl and return to headquarters."

At that moment, Book had known that he would do everything in his power to protect the unfortunate girl. Turning his back on the Council, he had truly become River's Watcher, as he believed G-d intended for him to be. Not a Watcher in the sense that he trained her and sent her to die but a Watcher like some past Watchers who had cared more for their girls than for their jobs, watchers like Nicholas Hannigan, Rupert Giles, and Alexis Whedonovich.

Things had not been easy since then. They were eternally on the run from both the Council and the Alliance. One wanted to kill her and the other to experiment on her; he didn't know which was worse.

Glancing over at River, Book was surprised to see her looking listless. She was leaning her head against her horse's neck and her arms were hanging semi-limply at her sides. She looked exhausted and, glancing at the sky, Book could see why. It was nearly dark and they had been riding for hours while he was caught up in his memories. They would need to find shelter for the night and soon. River's brother must be worried sick.

Seeing a cave opening up ahead, Book called out to River, "We're going to stop here for the night. Are you alright?"

Snapping her head up, River looked at—into—him. "The stars are whispering to me: pss, pss, pss. They say that you have been keeping secrets."

"That's right, River," responded Book. "We'll talk after we get settled in that cave, alright?"

Nodding once, River climbed down off the horse with nearly unbelievable grace.

TBC

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	3. Not Entirely Alone

A Power in the 'Verse

Disclaimer: I own neither "Buffy: the Vampire Slayer" nor "Firefly." They're all Joss'. 

**Part III**

Not Entirely Alone

"It's dark, Mal."

"I can see that, Simon," responded Mal exasperatedly. He knew the doc was worried about his sister but Mal hadn't done anything to her and didn't deserve to be annoyed as if he had.

"We should send out a search party," Simon urged.

"We did, we didn't find them," Mal reminded him. "We'll start looking again in the mornin'. Ain't nothing we can do now, seeing it's as dark as it is. _Dong ma_?"

"First thing in the morning?" asked Simon.

"First thing," placated Mal, a mite bit worried himself.

FIREFLYBTVS

After getting River settled, Book had gone in search of food. He didn't find much. He returned with some grasses he believed to be edible. He guessed they would find out.

Once they had finished their meagre dinner, Book had rechecked River's wound. It was healing. Although she was still not at 100 percent, she would probably only need a good night's sleep to get there.

As he bustled around the cave, he could feel River's unwavering gaze on his back. She was like a damned cat following its prey.

When she finally spoke, Book jumped, despite his training. "I heal well, better than you."

Sighing he turned to face her. He had been putting off this conversation for a long time. The poor girl had enough on her shoulders; she didn't need this too. "Yes, River, you heal better than I do."

"Not my brain, though. I'm moon-brained."

"You're not moon-brained, River. You just have a lot rattling around in there."

"I can hear thoughts, emotions; it's too loud," River clamped her hands over her ears and began to chant "too loud, too loud."

"I believe you are a psychic and a seer, River," explained Book, pulling her hands off of her ears so she would be able to hear him. "The captain calls you a reader, but I find that it amounts to the same thing. Slayers are always a little more receptive to others' internalizations and to prophecy, but I believe that whatever it was that the Alliance did to you enhanced that, to a painful degree."

"I'm the Slayer," said River. It wasn't a question but it wasn't really a statement either. It was a discovery, a revelation.

"Yes, do you know what that is?"

"I can't read you like the others. You're a fuzzy book."

"The Council taught me to block my mind from seers and psychics," responded Book.

"The Council: They're all black and red, swirling, angry, knives and swords..."

"River," cut in Book. "I am going to explain what the Slayer is to you in the same way it had been explained to every Slayer before you. Into every generation she is born: one girl in all the world, a chosen one. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness, to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their numbers. She is the Slayer."

"There were so many," River moaned. "I can see them—feel them. They died."

"Yes, River, when one dies, another is Called."

"I know," she answered, confused by her own knowledge. "They are inside me, whispering to me. I thought it was ghosts driving me insane."

"The Slayer line runs through you now, River."

"And you're supposed to train me? To kill the monsters?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't you?" she asked, almost accusingly.

"I meant to," confessed Book, wiping his hand across his face. "I planned to make you the best Slayer there could be but everything changed after I met you. You were so fragile, so hurt—less of a Yael and more of a Dina. I wanted to protect you; I still do."

"No protection," she said, almost violently. "No safety. The world closes in, tighter and tighter, choking me with barbed wire." Regaining her composure, River tilted her head as if there were a particularly puzzling riddle in front of her. "Why don't the other Slayers help me?"

"There are no other Slayers, River—just you."

"But there were. All together. An army."

"Yes," answered Book, although River hadn't stated it as a question.

"Where's my army?"

"Once, long ago, before humanity fled Earth, there was a corruption of the Slayer line," explained Book, feeling like one of those old fogey Watchers he had met who loved to tell stories of the olden days. "There was a Slayer named Buffy Summers. She died and a Slayer named Kendra was Called. But Summers didn't stay dead. She had drowned and a friend had resuscitated her, causing a fissure in the Slayer line."

"Buffy: a Slayer; Kendra: The Slayer," mumbled River.

"Yes, but although Kendra was the rightful Slayer, a part of the power still resided in Summers. Later, Summers and Faith … um, Lehane I believe, the Slayer after Kendra, had been in a hell of a war. They needed an army and had a powerful sorceress turn all the potential Slayers into real Slayers. It fractured the Slayer line into hundreds of pieces. Needless to say, it was untenable. Slowly, the Slayer population dwindled again; 100 years later there was just one again, as it should be."

"Just me," said River forlornly. "And them," she added, watching her hand tap her chest. "And you," she said, raising her head to make eye-contact with her watcher.

"Just you and me," agreed Book.

"I'm already a fighter: karate, jujitsu, judo, krav maga …" River trailed off, her mouth still moving but no sound coming out.

After nearly half a minute of this, her head snapped back up and she cried out, "They want me dead!"

"Who wants you dead, River?" asked Book, hoping River knew who was hunting them.

"The Alliance, the Council, demons."

"It's alright, River," soothed Book. "I'll keep you safe." And he swore to himself, yet again, that he would.

"What now?" asked River, in one of her brief moments of complete lucidity. In some ways these moments frightened Book more than her psychotic rambling moments; at moments like these River would get this intense, focused look on her face that was too driven, too blank—too dead.

"Now we kill whoever is trying to kill us," replied Book coldly and calmly.

"Not very preacher-like," mocked River in a sing-song voice.

"No," agreed Book, chuckling despite the heaviness that had descended over his heart.

"Who is it?" asked River avidly.

"I don't know," sighed Book. "Like you said before: 'the Alliance, the Council, demons?'"

"If it's the Alliance," posited River, "we run. Run just as fast as we can, to the middle of nowhere. They can't know where we are. It doesn't matter what Simon Says, he can't come with us. I made it dangerous; I _make_ it dangerous. Run, run. Flow away like other rivers. Run."

"We're in the same boat if it's the Council behind this," agreed Book. "If either the Alliance or the Council knows that we are on Serenity, they will hunt down Serenity and kill everyone on her. The Council has a lot of friends spread around." Book again thanked G-d that, in that communique he had sent the Council upon first meeting River, he had not named Serenity.

Again with a frighteningly lucid gaze, River told him, "No power in the 'verse can stop me."

"Try to get some sleep; we'll hunt them back come morning."

TBC

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	4. Return

A Power in the 'Verse

Disclaimer: I own neither "Buffy: the Vampire Slayer" nor "Firefly." They're all Joss'.

**Part IV**

Return

Book awoke feeling uneasy and afraid. Glancing around, he quickly found the reason: River was already awake and sat staring at him.

"River?" he questioned, his mouth all cottony from sleeping. "Is everything alright?"

"It's morning."

"Yes. Let me see your arm." Book was relieved to see that River's arm was fine and that she would be able to fire one of the guns. As Book was checking her arm, he noticed how calm she was and how awake she seemed. She was looking around curiously, as if she were seeing the world around her for the first time. This was the best he had ever seen her, mentally speaking, ever.

He supposed that in a way she was seeing the world around her for the first time. Learning about magic and demons had surely altered his perception of the world. He could no longer see a street performer without wondering if the man was using real magic and every time he saw a sideshow that claimed aliens, he had to wonder if they were demons on display. River, who was much more perceptive than Book, probably due to a combination of her intelligence, her Slayer abilities, and the things the Alliance had done to her, was undoubtedly seeing the magic in everything.

Book had never considered that River would have a psychic link to past Slayers and he felt bad that he had left her confused for so long. It was as if she had been living in a discombobulating and unreal world for too long and suddenly, in just one night, the fog had cleared and she could see the world for what it was, she could understand it. And herself. Book knew now that, as much as he wanted to protect the girl, he would need to train her. She probably wouldn't take no for an answer.

He also had to stop thinking of her as a girl. She was the Slayer.

"I'm still a girl," said River quietly.

Shocked back into the present, Book found himself still holding River's healing arm; he must have been staring off into space.

Off of Book's quizzical look, River offered, "You were thinking loudly, very loudly indeed." After a pause, River continued, "I'm still a girl...for now. I've been many things: a hunter, an experiment, a burden, the ship," at which she giggled, "a fugitive, a seer, a reader, a river, a dancer, a star in the skies, and the Slayer. I'm a girl right now."

"Alright, River," said Book, again feeling that familiar heaviness creep into his heart.

The ride back to the market seemed much longer than the ride away had been. Book supposed it was the absence of ridiculous amounts of adrenaline. River, however, seemed to enjoy it immensely. As she rode she looked around, as she had done in the cave, and seemed taken with everything she was seeing. She had a broad smile on her face and Book could swear that she was humming.

When they reached the ruined part of the market where their original firefight had occurred, Book could just feel his blood pressure rising. Not only was the place a tad spooky, but it also provided ample cover for enemies.

As they released their stolen horses, River drew close to Book and he could see that the smile was gone from her face and she was all business. "Let's split up," said River, clearly working out a strategy in her head.

"Alright," said Book, wondering yet again if he were truly the insane one to be following River's plans. "I'll go right and you go left."

"No," disagreed River. "You hide, not well though, and make them pay all their attention to you. Promise them gumdrops if they're good. Or lollipops."

"What will you do?" asked her Watcher, ignoring the last part of River's orders.

"Kill them."

With that, they split up.

Book saw River slink away, pulling Jayne's knife out of her boot as she went.

Book moved in the opposite direction, taking cover behind a scorched circular wall that protected him on three sides. He didn't have many bullets left in his pistol but he had enough to make a distraction. He just had to trust that his Slayer could get the job done.

Firing an opening salvo, Book was immediately inundated with the sound of gunfire. Keeping low, he prayed that they stayed occupied with him. He felt that, with this fight, he could rule out demons and Council operatives. Demons wouldn't be using guns, would they? And the Council was smart enough to know he was setting up a trap; they would not underestimate the girl. It had to be the Alliance.

Occasionally Book would pop up to return fire, not even sure if he was hitting anything. When he ran out of ammo for his pistol, he picked up the rifle he had taken from the ranch house and began to use that, cursing himself when he saw the other rifle lying next to it. All River had was that damn knife.

Gradually, as Book remained crouched in his hidey-hole, the shots stopped. Once all the shots had stopped, nearly 10 minutes later, Book took a chance and poked his head out. When he wasn't greeted with more shots, he took heart and stood up. Looking around, he couldn't see anything and there was complete silence.

He cautiously made his way to the first point from where returning fire had originated. He saw a demon, dead and still grasping his weapon, as if it were a benediction to G-d. There was a long, wide gash across the demon's throat; it had bled out in seconds. It seemed that Book had been wrong—demons it was.

Moving onto the next post, he saw the same thing. All in all, River had killed—no, slayed—nine demons, including one that had a heavy bandage on one of its arms. So Book had hit one in their original gunfight after all. It looked as though River had surprised each and every one of them, sneaking up behind them and then slitting their throats. Some of the demons' faces were frozen in a look of shock while others had not even had the time to become shocked.

The real question now was: Where was River? Book decided to tempt fate and called out her name but received no reply. Book grew worried and began to picture River, lying dead somewhere, or River slowly bleeding out but being unable to call for help.

Just as Book was beginning to grow truly agitated, River reappeared beside him, almost like magic. She held in her hands a smooth, shiny black stone.

"I found this, isn't it pretty?" she asked, holding up the rock for him to see, completely unperturbed, as if she had not just brutally slayed nine demons.

"Yes River, it's beautiful," said Book, breathing in a sigh of relief. "Help me, we need to bury the bodies. If someone finds them and reports it, the Council could know we were here."

Pouting slightly, River put her new find down and began dragging bodies over to an abandoned well. As she dropped each one down, she would look after it wistfully. Once all the demons had gone down the well, River sighed and intoned, "Oh dear, nothing left, what shall we throw in now?" After giggling for some reason that was eluding Book, River collapsed the sides of the well, effectively burying the demons under the rubble.

"Good," said Book, glad that River was not saying anything about him not assisting her. "We need to get back to Serenity now, before we get into too much trouble."

"I need new clothes," said River, yet again staring at her new find.

Book had to agree. River was covered in blood, there was a clear bullet hole in the sleeve of her dress, and the bottom of her dress was ripped where he had used it as a makeshift bandage.

After instructing River to remain where she was, Book reentered the market and traded the two stolen rifles for a new dress for River. He even made sure to buy one that River would be sure to like—after all, it did look like all her other dresses.

After River had changed, they made their way back to the ship, relieved to see that it was still there. The captain had warned them a few times that if they wandered off and missed departure time, they should hope they liked the planet they would be stuck on.

Using one of the hidden hatches to board the ship, Book and River could hear angry voices coming from the cargo bay.

"They've been gone for nearly two days. Why are we just sitting here?" demanded a fuming Simon.

"Actually, we are all standing," offered Wash faux-helpfully. At the doctor's and captain's angry looks, he stepped back to join the rest of the crew, gulped audibly, and had the decency to look cowed.

"We're not just sitting here," replied the captain angrily, which caused Wash to perk up some. "We have already looked for your sister and the preacher. We can't do much else, _dong ma_? What do you wanna do, aside from whinin' at me, that is?"

"Hi," said River suddenly, emerging from the shadows. "Wanna see my rock?"

"_Mei mei_, where have you been?" asked Simon, rushing forward to embrace his sister. "We were worried? What happened?"

Book felt his heart stop. He and River had not discussed what they would tell the others. Would she tell them about the demons? Would she reveal that Book had had ulterior motives since day one? Book knew though that whatever River chose, he would be unable to change her mind.

"I found a rock," repeated River, holding it up for everyone to see.

"But where were you?" asked Mal. "And where is that preacher man?"

"Here," replied Book stepping into the room as well.

"What happened?" asked Mal, addressing Book now.

"Well..." began Book, unsure of how to continue.

"I left," broke in River. "I wanted to see the caves. And I found this rock. And then we got lost. We ate grass. And I got this rock."

"It's a real shiny rock, River," said Kaylee, smiling at the younger girl affectionately. Although, if Kaylee were honest with herself, she would admit that she was glad River was back for two reasons. The first was that she cared for River and wanted her safe, but the other was that Simon had been real mad at her after River had run off. If she hadn't made him go with her, he would have been with River.

"Are those new clothes?" Simon asked River.

"No," answered the girl, with a barely noticeable smile on her face, just a slight upturning of the corners of her mouth.

"Why do I have the feeling that there's more to this here little story than River's lettin' on?" Mal asked Book.

"I wouldn't know that, Captain," answered Book innocently.

FIREFLYBTVS 

It had only been one month since River had begun to train with Book but she was already making vast improvements. River already knew how to fight, so Book didn't feel a need to spar with the girl. Instead, Book was focusing on the mental training that all Slayers should receive.

They worked on meditation and many of their sessions merely consisted of long talks once everyone else had gone to sleep. The girl had a lot of issues and merely talking about them was doing a great deal of good. She still went in and out of lucidity but her lucid moments lasted for longer and longer.

Everyone could see the change in River. Mal had congratulated Simon on helping his sister, but Simon had responded hopefully that he had not done anything new and that he didn't know what had brought about this change. Maybe she was just finally getting better.

Book and River kept their secret happily. There was always a sense of foreboding, however, because they both knew that the status quo could not last forever. One day, something would happen and the others would need to know the truth. They both just hoped that day was a long way away.

The End

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